A band plays, a speaker falls
The crowd went wild as I recall
A commotion caused by a Shaw onslaught
A guitar with strings strung too a taut
Tight hamstrings out of tune that day
Stiffened on the slopes of the Tourmalet
Now just the pavement's grade would lead to cramp
His fate thus sealed and our laughter's tears damp
Music's black box now on its own descent
Through the warm night air towards Bryce lying bent
To their rescue came Simon the Great
An arm outstretched, lying in wait
A tune-saving catch, there is no doubt
But ACDC continued throughout
A moral to this story there has to be
For in Bryce's failing there was much glee
His body had rebelled against depleted electrolyte
So if you're planning on dancing into the night
Beware of muscles way too tight
For they be the air guitarist's kryptonite
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